


as a lover, or an executioner

by littlelily



Category: Columbo
Genre: Adultery, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Hotel Sex, Love Affair, M/M, Pining, Tenderness, alex is one big mess as expected, columbo is soft, its about being Seen, nothing explicit but still spicy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelily/pseuds/littlelily
Summary: None of them knew how it started."I am free for the night", he had said. "Janice won’t expect me."Columbo follows him. Alex tries not to fall.---A little benelumbo ficlet I wrote for my friend.
Relationships: Alex Benedict/Lieutenant Columbo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	as a lover, or an executioner

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little fic i wrote for sydney @lesbiancolumbo on tumblr <3 happy one year friendship ily.  
> Title comes from "The Carnivorous Lamb" by Agustín Gómez-Arcos  
> The story is set during the investigation.  
> Enjoy!

None of them knew how it started. 

Maybe it had been right there in the entrance hall of his house. Or maybe it had been at the bowl over the piano, where the tension between them hung in the air like a threat, or a promise. Maybe it was that first time, in her apartment, when he shook his hand and thanked him warmly. Either way, it should’ve never happened, really. When do these kinds of things happen with people in their situation? 

And yet here they were, in some nearby hotel, not long after Alex's wicked smile shined when he knew he had just convinced Columbo to sleep with him. To drive him to the place and relieve some of that tension.  _ I am free for the night _ , he had said.  _ Janice won’t expect me _ . We could talk about how Columbo’s determined look followed him in silence. Or about Alex’s surprise later on when he was shoved against a wall of the room and kissed, kindly, firmly, with a gentleness Alex had never received from these kinds of adventures with men. With something tasting strangely like more than a one-time thing. 

His surprise again, when Columbo was trying to slow him down during their kiss, to make this last. To stop Alex from taking his shirt off yet and instead take his time to pass a warm hand over his chest down to his waist. As if he really was enjoying the moment. When all Alex could think about was getting to the point because who knew? He might just get arrested tomorrow. The detective got closer everyday to discover the truth or perhaps to simply find a proof that would incriminate his prime suspect, but right now he kissed his neck and tugged on his hair as if nothing else mattered. It drew a moan out of Alex’s throat, amazed that Columbo took control this easily…. and that he let him. That someone could want him like this, vulnerable and deprived of any bravado or power, or anything really that made him look good in his everyday life and usually got him the girls. That all this attitude he was used to pull out for this was now completely powerless. For once there was no performance, no public to impress. Here, in a few precise touches, he was asked to be, simply and naturally.  _ He _ was wanted. 

It was making him dizzy. 

“How should I call you?” Alex asked, voice hoarse from kissing, trying to distract his mind from the feelings attacking him. The detective stared at him, slightly surprised, clearly not expecting this from the man in his arms. 

“It’s up to you,” Alex continues, “but I like to know what name to say when I'm down there.” He punctuated this with a trademark grin, staring intently down at the man’s lips. 

“Frank” Columbo says. “You can call me Frank.” 

The name echoes in Alex’s chest. 

“Is that your real name?” 

“Does it matter?” 

The kiss that follows prevents Alex from answering and he lets himself be pushed down the bed without protest. Because he wants it, because he can. Because it’s easy. Because its just them now, no case, no murder, no wife. Just the bodies of two men and everything between them. So he lets himself be touched and seen, and feels his chest contract every time Frank’s eyes catch his, making all the world around shiver with the sheer emotions coming out of them, the sheer _ want _ . It cuts him, like a blade slicing through every facade, every mask he was used to wear. Alex was almost scared the man could see his crime then, clear as day, lying there on his skin like some plainly written confession, but for him and only him. To be dissected and torn apart and opened up by those hands that will surely eventually catch him. To show him everything, an offering of his soul, saying: There, have all of me. The ragged and the dirty and the sinful. The irredeemable. The hands stained with blood and the mouth full of lies. He would lay it all down for Frank, Alex thinks, all of it, and beg for redemption in the moving heat of his hips. And right now it seemed like if he were to do that, the want in Frank's eyes would not falter in front of it. 

He kisses him again as his body is taken to a place he had never known before and everything is blurred, alive, painful, and so  _ so _ terrifyingly good that he wonders if this is what it feels like. To be taken apart and made again. To be worshipped. To be lo-

_ Oh. _

His chest contracts again. A shout.

A moan. A smile. A touch. A kiss.

_ It was too late. _

A huff. A laugh. A whimper. A grunt.

_ He had fallen in love. _

* * *

Later, when they wake up, Alex is still shaken up, every wall of his heart kept broken down by the man who’s slowly waking up beside him. Memories of what just happened coming back to Alex in waves as he tries to compose himself quickly, but fails. He knows that everything is there on his face for Frank to see and the second the man opens his eyes he will be lost. So he doesn't waste time, doesn't linger in this feeling. Doesn’t let it turn him soft and weak.  _ Don’t fall _ , he tells himself.  _ Don’t let yourself fall _ . Instead he goes swiftly under the covers, giving Frank a bit of the pleasure back. Over his chest and down to his waist, to the curve of his hip, to his-

The groan Frank makes then is music to his ears. 

Alex hums appreciatively. He's in control now, he knows what he's doing and he knows he's good. He was always one for giving his dates nice parting gifts. But just as he thinks he is safe from showing any weakness, the other man moans his name and Alex feels his chest burn again, small fire spreading through his ribs. He knows he lost. The walls he built around his heart are but frail and they shatter ineluctably when a hand grabs his hair to lead his head into a slow excruciating motion. 

God. He is so far gone. Even now there is tenderness through the way Frank’s fingers scratch his scalp, gently. Alex cannot help the noise that escapes his throat. 

So much for being in control.

So much for not falling in love.

The fingers in his hair start tugging roughly and that’s when Alex knows the man is getting close. Fire and pride fills the world and when the climax arrives he's glad his lover's eyes are shut close by pleasure. So that he can't see the way Alex's eyes shine looking up at him. 

He takes the opportunity to kiss him, before the eyes open again, before the walls need to be up again.

Eyelids still closed, Frank smiles.

"God.... Now that's a great way to wake up." his voice is hoarse from sleep and it makes Alex's chest flip. 

"Enjoyed it?" He asks with a smug satisfied grin, the charming demeanor coming back to him with the pride of having pleasured. Only these butterflies in his stomach are new. 

"Yes, Lord, yes I did.”

There’s a chuckle and then Frank’s eyes open slowly to meet Alex. They stare into each other for a second, a comfortable silence filling the room with an affection that almost knocks Alex over. It’s so powerful, he’s not sure it can’t only come from his own heart.

"Good morning." Frank says, finally, in the softest way Alex has ever heard. "Morning, genius." He replies with a smirk, something warm and cozy spreading across his rib cage. 

It's not morning yet, it's not going to be for a few hours still, but right now it feels like one. Feels like they could lay there in the messed up bed sheets, lazily lingering under the sunlight coming through the blinds until work or duty calls. Until the world pulls them apart, ripping them from the arms of the other and throwing them back into reality. Into this war between killer and detective. Between Columbo and Mr. Benedict. 

But for now, in the middle of the night, Frank is smiling at him and nothing else matters.

  
_ Yeah _ , Alex thinks.  _ So much for not falling. _


End file.
